


Survive

by Holly_Sage



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fix-It, OC, Reincarnation, Self-Insert, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4038388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holly_Sage/pseuds/Holly_Sage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dying is a bitch, and being reborn as a misfortunate queen isn't much of a consolation. All I could do is prepare for what I knew was to come. Screw fate and screw history. I was going to survive, and maybe improve the world and find love in the process. OC Self-insert</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue:

The funny thing about history is that it rarely reflects what actually happened. We put the scant pieces we find into a plausible story and then treat it like reality. We make an imperfect, broken image of what happened. Recounting history is like putting together a puzzle with most of the pieces missing and then calling it good enough once you mash the pieces together in some sort of abstract picture.

Over the course of my life I came to know just how much of the puzzle is sometimes missing. You see when I died I was reincarnated, and some how I ended up in the past. My first life surrounded the turn of the 21st century. Now I am in the 16th century. My name is Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, and this is my story.

-~-

I’m unashamed to say that my last thoughts were “Oh shit” before being blasted into pieces. I imagine that it is a fairly common thought when people suddenly become aware of their imminent demise. But to be perfectly honest how I died or what I was doing when I died isn’t important. The important thing is that I’m dead and I’m aware that I’m dead.

“I think, therefore I am”* has never been more apt. I’m dead, but somehow I remained self-aware. I could see a blurry light. I felt cold. I couldn’t move. I was absolutely terrified. So, I did the only thing I could do: I screamed.

I could feel somebody wiping gently at my skin. I tried to flail but my body would not respond properly. I had no idea what was going on. What the hell sort of afterlife was this? Why couldn’t I see? I wasn’t blind. I could see light but I couldn’t make anything out. Was it some sort of brain damage? That would explain my apparent aphasia and paralysis. But that doesn’t make any sense, the areas of the brain that control those functions are not adjacent or even near each other. At least I was still capable of complex cognitive abilities. That’s something.

I cried as I felt myself being moved and then I was laying down on something warm. Inexplicably whatever I was lying on felt secure and familiar. I was exhausted. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew I was being held. Whatever had me was warm, but unfamiliar. I screamed. I felt so helpless. The next thing I knew something warm and firm was thrust into my mouth. Instinctively, I clamped on and sucked. Warm milk squirted into my mouth and suddenly all the pieces came together. I was a baby. You have got to be shitting me. Why was I helpless little infant? How did the fates screw up this badly? How could I be condemned to be tortured with the thoughts and knowledge of my past life? Not to mention have to go through the indignities of infanthood while being self-aware?

Ok, so my initial reaction to being aware of being reincarnated into an infant body was a bit extreme, but I was very emotionally distressed. Who could blame me? Fortunately, infanthood turned out to be much more tolerable than I anticipated. I cried and slept a lot. I didn’t even need to even pretend to act like a baby. My baby body was ruled by instincts. Not that my adult self was in any state to want to act any different.

I had a lot of issues to sort through about my death and new life. In the end, I decided that I was going to lock away my past life and identity in a dark corner of my mind and buried it the best I could. I was going to live a new life and I didn’t want to be weighed down by my previous life before it even began. I was going to fully abuse, I mean apply, my semantic knowledge and previous education. I was going to be one fast developing and insightful child. No need to dumb myself more than absolutely necessary.

So caught up in my existential crisis, it took me a surprisingly long time to figure out I was in the past. It wasn’t what I expected. At. All. You would think that you could only be reincarnated into a new life in the future. That souls where bound by some sort of temporal linearity. I gave up on the idea of any sort of fate intervening on my behalf what with me being reincarnated in the past. Fate either did not exist or was severely incompetent and unreliable. I had to take charge of my own life and survival because I refused to succumb to infant mortality even if I had to cheat to do it.

After my second revelation had me sullen for days. I cursed whatever force was responsible for my situation. I did not want to live in the past. My life expectancy was shortened drastically and it had none of the modern comforts. My only solace was by then I figured out that I was born to a wealthy family at least so I would have a greater chance at surviving childhood than most.

My third revelation was that I was in fact a queen. Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, in fact. The realization at my identity was nagging thought at the back of my mind for months before I would finally acknowledge it. I knew my name was Mary Stuart, but that was a common enough name. I knew that the servants would often call me a little queen, but I thought it was an endearment. A nick name, something, anything more reasonable than being an actual infant queen. Embarrassingly enough, I wasn’t forced to confront reality until my coronation when I was nine months old. I burst into historical laughter when the archbishop proclaimed me the Queen of Scotland in front of a bunch of richly dressed strangers.

I should have figured it out sooner. My coronation was absolutely, positively the worst time to find out that I was the bloody Queen of Scotland. Having a mini mental breakdown in front of a bunch of important people that you were just instated to rule over is not an ideal start to your reign. Lucky for me, I had the excuse of being a baby. Nobody even blinked at my behavior and some of the court ladies even cooed over me. Thank god for the small mercies of my infant status.

The realization that I was Mary, Queen of Scots kicked my plan of abusing my past knowledge into overdrive. The Mary I remember from history appeared to have a rather unfortunate life. I was going to try to avoid as many misfortunes that befell the previous Mary as I possibly could. I didn’t give much thought to messing up history or disrupting the timeline and creating paradoxes. I figured that if I was reincarnated into what I thought of as the past than time was flexible enough to deal with any divergence from whatever the hell I thought that Queen Mary previously did. 

Thinking of time travel as a pseudo time-traveler was even more confusing than thinking about it as a temporally normal person. You can’t just define the experience by rules that make sense because any I had previously heard of I had already violated. Oh well, I decided I was in a different strand of time from whatever one I originally came from. An alternate reality as it was. I decided to leave it at that. I was never that big into philosophy anyway.

I turned to plotting. I was definitely moving up several inventions and innovations to make life easier and to make my country stronger. Postal service and railroads were absolutely going to be implemented. Also agriculture and public sanitation were going to get face-lifts. I was going to train doctors myself if I had to. At the very least I was going to abolish the horrid practice of bloodletting. And I was going to try my hardest to implement some basic human rights, including freedom of religion. I knew that the conflict between Catholics and Protestants was just beginning and was going to be a huge part of my life. It defined past Mary’s life. I had future knowledge in not just what happened but on future solutions to the problem. With any luck I could set a more tolerant tone to Catholic and Protestant relations that will last beyond this time. Maybe I could ease the pain and suffering this problem caused throughout history. 

It was a noble and ambitious endeavor. Stupidly ambitious even, but I was arrogantly confident in my previous education and knowledge. Besides, it shouldn’t be that difficult to make it better than how things played out before. Hindsight is 20/20 after all. However, in order to do this I was going to have to take on a powerful, arrogant, corrupt Vatican. That’s a force that Mary previously didn’t even try to face. Well, I had my work cut out for me. I always liked a challenge.

-~-

*Descartes's most famous axiom


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dying is a bitch, and being reborn as a misfortunate queen isn't much of a consolation. All I could do is prepare for what I knew was to come. Screw fate and screw history. I was going to survive, and maybe improve the world and find love in the process. OC Self-insert

Chapter 1:

“Mary!” an exasperated nursemaid called out. “Ye ur th’ most mischievoos lass if ever I saw one. How ye manage tae wander aff is beyond me.”

I gave her a toothy grin and resigned myself to being picked up by the current nursemaid that had the misfortune to be watching me. It wasn’t like anyone was doing anything interesting today anyway. The current court plot was that the regent James Hamilton the 2nd Earl of Arran and the English ambassador Ralph Sadler were planning to marry me off to the English crown heir, Edward Tudor the Prince of Wales. But this was not a concern; I knew that the deal would never go through. Too many were in favor of the Auld Alliance with France and hated the English. Besides he was going to die young at 15. Even if I was forced to wed him the most I was going to be stuck with him was 6 or 7 months.

My mother was working tirelessly against the deal and to gain power as regent. I would be confident in her success even without my future knowledge confirming it. Really what was James Hamilton thinking? The Scottish and English despised each other. Perhaps it would have worked if there weren’t the additional issue of Prince Edward being a Protestant, but with the state of things it was the death stroke for a marriage alliance between the English and Scottish crowns.

Finding myself back in the nursery, I huffed and pouted. It was no fun in here. There weren’t even books to “pretend” to read in my age imposed prison. I did not want to be here. Sulking, I buried my head in my nursemaid’s shoulder. “Come now love, dinnae be like ‘at. There is a man ‘at would like tae meet ye,” my nursemaid gently chastised me.

Curious, I poked my head up and saw a strange man dressed in fine black clothes and holding some sort of bag. He had steel grey hair and appeared to be in his fifties. He lacked a white collar, which indicated that he wasn’t a member of the clergy. Who could possibly be visiting me? I narrowed my eyes and demanded “Who?”

“My name is William Manderstown, and I traveled a very long way to meet you, your majesty,” the strange man in black said with a sweeping bow.

I narrowed my eyes. The name William Manderstown was not familiar. I called out “Why?”

“I had heard that your majesty was born, but was weak and sickly. I came to render my services to my queen to see if I would be able to help restore her health,” Manderstown said gently.

I paled at his words. He was a physician, which was bad news for me. I knew I was perfectly healthy, but these were the days that they thought regular bloodletting was necessary to continue good health. Much to my distress my nursemaid passed me over to the misinformed physician. I decided that now was a good time to act my age and throw a tantrum. “No!” I screamed. The adults winced at the high-pitch of my distressed voice. I wiggled and struggled in the physician’s grasp. Unfortunately, he failed to drop me like I wanted. I continued to screech “No! No! No! No! No!” I beat my tiny fists against the man’s chest. To my immense displeasure, the man was not put off from my display. He even had the gall to laugh at me.

“Well I am glad to see that those rumors of your ill health appear to be false. Your lungs definitely seem to be in working order, and your muscles are developing properly,” the man teased. I glared at him in response.

He walked over and placed me down on a low cot. Sensing my opportunity for freedom, I scrambled back and away from him. I quickly looked around for an escape route. My nursemaid, anticipating my failed cooperation, had already moved to block the door, the traitor. I was still too little to access the windowsills, but the nursery wasn’t on the ground floor anyway. I was trapped. Fine, whatever, I still wasn’t going to go willingly. I ran to the trunk that contained all the toys that I ignored. Throwing it open, I grasped the toys and started throwing them at the man. Finally these baby toys were of some use.

The man covered his face, and took a few steps back. “Mary!” my nursemaid yelled in dismay at my behavior. She rushed towards me, leaving the door unguarded. Bingo. I dodged my nursemaid’s attempt to pick me up and spun past her. I sprinted with all my might towards the door. I reached the doorway and could almost taste my freedom when I felt myself being scooped up from behind. I struggled against my captor, flailing my limbs. I smirked with grim satisfaction when I heard the “oomf” of air being knocked out of my captor when I landed a knee to the gut.

Suddenly my nursemaid was in view and taking me back up into her arms. “I am sae sorry, Mister. I dah know what has gotten intae 'er. She has always bin a spirited lassie, but she has ne'er bin sae naughty,” my nursemaid apologized. Defeated, I swooned in her arms, making my body dead weight. She grunted as her knees buckled slightly under my weight.

“That’s quite all right Miss. It’s not the worse I’ve been subjected to when treating small children,” the man said. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief and picked his bag up again. “Can you please hold her still on the cot while I examine her?”

“Ay coorse,” my nursemaid responded. She then sat down on the cot her back against the wall with me on her lap. She restrained both of my arms by linking her elbows underneath my shoulders, and she threw a leg over my ankles to trap my legs. Pouting, I glared again at the man.

“Now, Queen Mary,” the man said, “there is no need to be like this. I am here to help you.” He came over to me and felt my brow. “You are balanced in both hot and cold, as well as wet and dry. Your urine was also the faintest shade of yellow, thin and did not smell fetid. All of this indicates good health.” He caught one of my wrists and felt my pulse. “Slightly elevated pulse, which indicates too much of the blood humor. This is to be expected, as you have not previously had your humors monitored and appropriately adjusted. Typically the blood humor needs to be lessened at least once a year to keep the balance in check. Overabundance of the blood humor is likely responsible for your ill-tempered behavior.”

I glared and wiggled in my nursemaid’s grasp as the man rambled off his self-important monologue. Of course my pulse was “slightly elevated” I just exerted myself. It had nothing to do with any “excess blood humor”. I knew what was coming next as the man set his case on my bed and opened his bag, which had a variety of knives and saws strapped down in cases. “Bad!” I began chanting, “Bad! Bad! Bad! Bad! Bad!” The man ignored me and selected one of the smaller knives, and then he pulled a bowl out of the bag. “No!” I screamed as he placed the bowl under my left foot.

The man talked over me, informing my nursemaid, “I am going to blood let Queen Mary, thereby relieving her of excess blood humor. This will involve me making a small incision on the bottom of Queen Mary’s foot and draining some of her blood. I have already received permission from her Lady Mother to carry out the procedure.”

“I understand Mister. Ye ur daein' me an' th' other nursemaids a favor. Th' lass wulnae be able tae rin aff while th' cut heals. It will give us aw a few days o’ rest,” my nursemaid replied.

The man nodded, acknowledging my nursemaid’s agreement. I continued to chant “No! No! No! Bad! Bad! Bad! NOOO!” as the man took the knife to my foot. I ceased my struggling though; no need for him to accidently cut more than he should when he did the vile procedure. I winced and cried as he cut across the underside of my foot along the left ridge from the ball of my foot to my heel. He then squeezed my foot, my blood ran down his hand and pooled into the bowl. After an indiscriminate amount of time he let go of my foot, pulled out a handkerchief, wiped his hands, and then pulled boiled bandages from his bag. He wiped my foot with his handkerchief before wrapping it in bandages.

When the man finished bandaging my foot, he wiped his knife clean before replacing it in his bag, and poured my blood into the chamber pot. He stated, “It is done. I shall inform her Lady Mother myself of the examination along with my advice to have Queen Mary checked upon annually to ensure the balance of her humors are properly maintained.” With a nod towards my nursemaid the man exited the room.

I lay weak against my nursemaid feeling woozy and light-headed. “Weel lass, 'at was nae sae bad, was it?” my nursemaid said while sitting me up and extracting herself from me. I sighed and fell back onto the cot.

“Traitor” I murmured as I nuzzled myself against the pillow and blankets on the cot.

Naethin' o’ th' sort. It looks like its naptime. Sweet dreams lass,” my nursemaid tittered as I blurrily stared at her. I felt a blanket being pulled over me as I drifted off to sleep.

-~-

The next day I had once again escaped from the nursery. I was using a toy scepter as a cane as I limped around the castle. I cursed the physician under my breath. This was all his fault. I hid behind a column as I listened to the servant’s gossip about the physician. One of them was going to clean his chambers in one of the west side of the King’s Old Building. Now that I knew where the physician was I was going to hide out in the library until the evening meal when I knew the rooms would be empty. Then I would sneak into his rooms and see if he had anything useful or interesting.

-~-

Once in the physician’s chambers I determined which trunk contained his letters and books. I then carefully rifled through it making sure everything was returned to its exact original position. There wasn’t anything remarkable in the physician’s correspondence. He was consulting on treatment of Prince Francis, but that wasn’t surprising. I knew that Prince Francis was a sickly child. He was also the rector of the University of Paris, which was interesting. Knowing him could prove useful in the future.

I went through his books next. Unsurprising he had works from Avicenna and Galen. I wrinkled my nose at those; those ancient medical texts were filled with so much error that they were useless at best, dangerous at worst. Surprisingly, he had a copy of Leonardo da Vinci’s pamphlet Canon of Proportions. That was unexpected and rather progressive of him. I definitely wanted to read that. He also had an English edition of The Great Surgery by Paracelsus. Flipping through it, the book contained justification for herbal remedies as well as what looked like more modern medical practices. This was promising; I also wanted to read it. The last interesting book I came across was a book on the uses of plants. I hoped it included healing remedies, maybe even poisons too, if I was lucky. Unfortunately, it was in Latin, which I had yet to learn.

I wanted to read the da Vinci pamphlet, Paracelsus’s book and the plant book; however, I could only carry one of the books. I decided to take the pamphlet by da Vinci and the book by Paracelsus. They were both English translations, so I could read those first. When I came back to return these items to the trunk I would take the plant book. I would keep that one hidden and would read it when I learned Latin. Pleased with myself, I placed everything back to the way it was before padding out of the room with my prizes.

-~-

I hid the stolen items at the bottom of the trunk containing my unused toys. Nobody, not even my nursemaids went through it, which made it the perfect hiding place. I couldn’t be seen reading, so I was restricted to only doing so at night. Even then I could only do it when it was old Gallis’s turn to stay with me during the night. She could sleep through anything, including the candlelight I needed to read by. I hated the strain on my eyes that came with reading by candlelight, and I longed for the electricity that I had taken for granted in the past. I couldn’t wait until I was old enough that it wouldn’t be shocking for me to read during the day to avoid this unpleasantness altogether.

At the end of two weeks I was able to read through my stolen plunder and was ready to sneak it back into the physician’s trunk. Hopefully the man never realized that they were missing. Like before I snuck into the physician’s chambers during the evening meal. I placed the book and pamphlet into the trunk in the same area in which I found them, and then removed the plant book. I turned towards to leave with my bounty, and froze as I saw the physician standing in the doorway. In my surprise I accidently dropped my scepter, which still served as my makeshift cane.

“I was wondering who pinched my book. But I was not expecting it to be you Queen Mary,” the man said.

Scared, I scrambled to pick up my scepter and hobbled towards to the closest window a foot away. Luckily, there was a stool underneath the window, which I clambered to stand upon. I quickly pushed the book and scepter onto the windowsill before attempting to pull myself up. We were on the ground floor, so if I was fast enough I might be able to escape outside with my prize. I doubted that he would follow me out the window. I should then have enough time to hide the book before he was able to catch me after exiting the building from a proper door. I would be in trouble still, but I might be able to keep the book.

The man was faster than he looked. He was able to pick me up just when I had successfully lifted myself up onto the windowsill. “Just where do you think you are going, Queen Mary? And why do you want that book?” the man questioned.

Drat, I was caught. At least I couldn’t get into too much trouble between being the queen and my status as a wee babe that couldn’t possibly know what she is doing. I slumped against him and looked up giving him a toothy grin. He set me down on the floor. I took the opportunity to place the book on the floor and begin paging through it intently. Maybe if I were adorable enough he wouldn’t tell the nursemaids what I was doing when he brought me back. Or at the very least not tell my mother that I was steeling books and attempting to climb out windows. I’m not even sure what she would do to me in response to such an accusation.

“You really do like books don’t you, your majesty?” the man asked.

I looked up at him and nodded while still paging through the book.

“Would you like me to read to you?”

I looked up at him, cocked my head to the side, and nodded again.

“Alright, why don’t we go to the library and pick out a more suitable choice.”

I shook my head and replied, “No, this one.”

“If you’re sure. I don’t think you would find a book on plants very interesting.

I nodded again, smiling. “Sure!” I squealed.

“Alright then. Why don’t I take a look at your foot and then we can get started.”

I sat patiently as he rewrapped my foot in fresh bandages and said, “It is healing nicely. The cut should be completely gone in the next few days. It might have healed sooner if you didn’t walk around on it.”

I stared at him, unimpressed. “Read, now!” I demanded.

“Alright, alright, lets see.” He picked the book and me up and sat down in a chair with me in his lap. He proceeded to describe the plants in the pictures. It was definitely simplified paraphrasing of the Latin inscriptions, but I appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. When it grew too dark to read he placed the book on the table before picking me up with my scepter and carrying me back to the nursery. Once there he passed me into the frantic nursemaid’s arms. “I found this one wandering around The King’s Old Building.

Thenk ye Mister. She is a wee trooblemaker always wanderin' abit. I hope she wasnae much trooble,” my nursemaid crooned. I hid my face in the nape of her neck. Here it comes; I was at least going to get a spanking for this. My mother would endorse it for my very bad behavior.

“No trouble at all,” the man replied. “In fact she expressed an interest in books and learning. I would be willing to encourage this by reading to her after the evening meal for the remainder of my stay. Would you like that, your majesty?”

Surprised, I looked at him and nodded.

“Very well,” The man said. “If you could bring Queen Mary to the library after tomorrow’s evening meal and then pick her up at dusk, I would be most obliged. For now I will take my leave. Good evening, Miss, Queen Mary.”

-~-

From that night onward the physician read to me an hour or two every evening for the remainder of his stay. He first read through the plant book, before moving on to his other medical texts. I kept pushing the books by Avicenna and Galen out of his hands and onto the floor until he eventually gave up on those and turned to more modern texts. He read to me about recent medical innovations before moving onto new inventions.

Four weeks later, the physician departed for Paris, but not before enquiring on whether I would like to continue learning. I agreed readily. Then two weeks later Cardinal Beaton took over my instruction much to my surprise. He was apparently more than glad to take up a cushy posting at Stirling Castle, which currently housed the Queen of Scotland and the reagent Lady Mary of Guise. He also treasured the opportunity to influence me through my education.

At first he was extremely dull and read the Bible to me and lectured me on Catholicism. When I was four, I convinced him to teach me how to read, which I picked up very quickly to his delight. According to him it was clearly because he was such a great instructor. From there he began teaching me Latin as well as the famous theologians over the ages. It was all much more interesting than I thought it would be. Or maybe anything seemed more interesting after being a small child whose intellectual stimulation was limited to the Bible for years. Either way, I enjoyed it and learned a lot of interesting theological arguments, which may prove useful if I had a run-in with the Vatican in the future. I could only hope that the Vatican wasn’t so corrupt at this point that they would turn down solid theological theory in favor of their worldly interests.

Overall, I was content with my life until my mother informed me that I was engaged to Prince Francis and was going to shortly departing to live in France. It wasn’t like I didn’t expect this development. I was waiting for this to happen ever since I turned six, but I still didn’t like it. I was comfortable here, whereas the French Court was full of uncertainty. It certainly would be more treacherous there than it was here. On the plus side, I guess I was supposedly going to be safer in France due to the greater distance from England and the protection from the Auld Alliance. I still doubted that I would actually be any safer in France.

Despite my misgivings, I knew that I had no choice in the matter. I had a destiny to face and uphold whether I liked it or not. As much as I hated the fates it appeared that I remained subjected to them, at least until I came into my majority.

-~-

Note:  
William Manderstown was a Scottish physician in the 16th century. He was born in Scotland and educated in France where he eventually became the rector of the University of Paris. There is nothing to indicate that Queen Mary ever met William Manderstown, but I thought it wouldn’t be too unreasonable. 

Cardinal Beaton was imprisoned by the Scottish regent James Hamilton and later freed in 1543. He then went on to persecute Protestants. He had a penchant for over-stepping his authority, and I would think that he would have liked the opportunity to influence the Queen of Scotland if given the chance. Also due to tutoring Mary, he was not able to be as active in the persecution of Protestants. This led to a quieting of the plots to kill him resulting in an extension of his life. It also prevented the English and Scottish relations from deteriorating as much as they did in reality and staved off one of the English invasions, which was encouraged by Cardinal Beaton’s actions.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

I was practicing my Latin at the low desk in my nursery when my nanny interrupted me. “Come now wee queen. It’s time tae meit yer ladies,” she cooed.

“In a moment, let me finish my conjugations,” I replied absently.

“Ah lass, ye should be excited. Ye will finally be aroond lasses yer own age. It will be good fur ye,” she sighed in exasperation.

“I said in a moment. It’s not like they are going anywhere,” I murmured.

“Dinnae be like 'at,” my nanny coaxed. “Ever since ye began readin' those books af yours, ye have bin different. Too much learnin' rot th' brain mah mammy always said. I think ye should pay heed. Ye used tae be sae adventuroos when ye waur a wee lil. I know a wee adventurer is in thaur somewhaur.”

I huffed in irritation. I had no interest in socializing with girls my own age, and had no idea how to act around them. I had way more life experience and thought and acted differently than the other children. I was suspicious that they would be able to tell that I wasn’t one of them. Children are strangely perceptive. They would be able to sense that I wasn’t a child, but some strange adult-child hybrid. What was I supposed to do with them?

“Fine, we can go now,” I said. “Am I presentable?”

My nanny smiled and took the opportunity to fuss over me, fixing my hair. Once she was satisfied with her handiwork I was led out of the nursery to the courtyard. The entire way there I felt my anxiety building. My heart quenched as the pressure in my chest built up with each step that brought me closer to the dreaded encounter. My thoughts were flying through my mind. They were probably going to be annoying bothers, and it was going to be confusing with so many Marys. You would think that the Scottish nobility could come up with another female name besides Mary. At least they would have a convenient moniker as “The Four Marys.” They were so going to get nicknames; it would be ridiculous for all my ladies in waiting to all have the same name as me. How would we ever know who was being addressed or gossiped about?

When we reached the courtyard I noticed that my mother was already there. I walked over to her and waited for her to acknowledgement. I was sure that she had some sort of instructions for me. I wasn’t disappointed. She turned to me and stated coolly “Don’t grimace. Smile graciously for our guests.” She fixed me with a pointed stare until I forced myself to smile. “Better, but it still needs work,” my mother told me. She placed her hands on my shoulders before continuing, “These girls are the daughters of the wealthiest families in Scotland. They will be traveling with you to France and will be serving as your ladies in waiting. Even though they will serve you, we are beholden on their families support, and we must make a good impression. Remember that you are always on display Mary. There is always someone watching you and what you do. You represent Scotland, do her proud.” She lifted my chin with her second and third fingers, “Now chin up, we have nobles to impress.”

She spun me around and rested her hands on my shoulders, which surprised me. She has never been very affectionate, and this was the most physical contact I had received from my mother for a while. My mother must be serious about presenting a strong front. Together we waited for the carriages to arrive. After a few minutes I heard the clopping of horses approaching. The carriage halted shortly after entering the gates. The driver got down and opened the carriage door as the court courier announced, “Robert Beaton, Laird of Criech, his wife Jane Renwall, his sister Janet and his daughter Greer.”

Unimpressed with the display, I fought hard not to fidget and grinned through it. I thought I was here to meet my lady’s maids, but there wasn’t a Mary amongst them. The family approached us as the carriage drove off. Introductions were made, but I was only half paying attention, distracted by the next carriage driving into the castle gates.

The court currier announced the occupants again, this time it was Lord Malcolm Flemming, his wife Janet Stewart, and daughter Lady Kenna. Again, nobody named Mary was present. Now I was confronted with two little girls my age standing beside me, whose names were not Mary. I fought desperately to keep down the burgeoning panic in my chest, which was threatening to bubble over into my actions. I couldn’t let anyone notice that I was on the verge of a minor meltdown. 

“Once is chance, twice is coincidence, thrice is a pattern,” couldn’t help but run through my head on a loop as I waited with bated breath for the third carriage. I tried to convince myself that maybe more noble families were coming to pay their respects before I was shipped off to France. That none of my lady’s maids had arrived yet and that’s why these girls had different names than the previous Mary’s lady’s maids, because I didn’t want to face the alternative. If these girls were in fact my lady’s maids, then it would indicate that I wasn’t in the past like I originally thought, but somewhere else entirely. That idea terrified me.

My heart plummeted down to my feet following the announcement of Lord George Seton, his wife Lady Marie Pieris, and daughter Lady Lola. My smile felt like it was splitting my face with how fake it was. It seemed as if my face was made of porcelain, which was currently cracking into pieces and falling. My chest felt like it was about to explode with how fast my heart was hammering, and I could feel the blood rushing in my ears. Still I held onto the hope that maybe there would be many more carriages arriving. Or perhaps some families were delayed and would be arriving at a later date. I wished for any possible explanation that would be consistent with me being in the past and not in an alternate reality that shared several similarities to my past.

The fourth carriage contained Lord Alexander Livingston and his daughter Lady Aylee. After greeting them, my eyes tore to the gates, searching for signs of another family’s arrival. I strained my ears, trying to discern the approach of another carriage, and I willed with all my might for more people to arrive through the gate. However, nobody else arrived and eventually I was shuffled along as the party moved into the castle.

On entering the castle, the children and I were excused to the nursery. I wasn’t sure if this was a blessing or a curse. On the one hand, I was able to get away from the adults, which was absolutely necessary as I was barely holding myself together. On the other hand, I would have to directly interact with my lady’s maids who were currently the source of my existential crisis. When we reached the nursery I plastered on a grin and welcomed them warmly to Stirling Castle. I thanked them for being so brave to come with me to France and how I hoped we would be the best of friends. Thankfully, it was enough for them and they were soon grinning and chatting away, excited by their new surroundings and the promise of adventure.

Later that night I tossed and turned in bed thinking about my current situation and bargaining with the universe. The fact that I was in an alternate reality of the past hardly changed my plans; I could still implement them more or less. Some may need adjusting, but I couldn’t assess the situation properly until I was in France and could observe if there were any changes from the previously expected past. I hoped with all my might that Francis would be healthier here. It was the change that I wanted the most, and I wished for it desperately. It would make things so much easier if he was not a sickly, infertile midget as he was reported in the history that I remembered. Maybe he would be healthy, handsome and strong. If I had to pick only one, I would settle for healthy.

There was something niggling at the back of my mind, a vague familiarity with the situation despite it being different from the past. Where had I heard the names Greer, Kenna, Lola, and Aylee before? I thought over what I knew about Mary, Queen of Scots. Most of what I learned about her was from historical sources, but I also encountered her as a character in pop culture. I had even watched a TV show, Reign, which was loosely based on the life of Mary, Queen of Scots. What were the names of Mary’s lady’s maids in that show again? It makes sense why they wouldn’t all be Mary as that would be way too confusing for viewers. They would have unique and distinct names like my current lady’s maids. Wait weren’t their names in Reign Greer, Kenna, and Lola? And then there was one other lady’s maid who died part way through the first season, which must be Aylee. 

I felt my stomach sinking as I realized the consequences of being Mary in what may be the Reign universe. I took a few calming breathes to steel my nerves. This was going to be so much more complicated and difficult than I initially thought. Reign had infinitely more drama and political intrigue than I would have encountered if I were in the past. Mary and Francis had to navigate a political minefield and were suffering from constant crisis in the show. And wasn’t Francis poisoned? I thought all I had to do was to figure out how to save him from an ear infection, which was hard enough as it is. Now I had to figure out how to detect and counter arsenic. Actually, it would be best to learn the whole spectrum of poisons and how to counter them just to be safe. I wasn’t going to let Francis die on me. Also somehow I was going to have to figure out a way to prevent Aylee’s death too. I really did have my work cut out for me.

-~-

Over the next few days I got to know my new ladies as we prepared to depart for France. Greer was ever eager to please; she was already beginning to develop an inferiority complex being the only one without the formal title of Lady in the group. I tried my best to reassure her that she was chosen the same as everyone else and that she belonged with the best of the best, but it was a work in progress. Kenna was very spirited and had a penchant for trouble. I had a sinking feeling she was going to need supervision to make sure she didn’t get in over her head. Hopefully, she would learn restraint as she grew older or would at least defer to me, as she should.

Aylee was almost Kenna’s exact opposite. Aylee was shy and reserved where Kenna was outgoing and adventurous. I could tell that her parents were already grooming her to be a demure, submissive lady wife. How boring. Her confidence needed a boost as well. Lola was probably the most balanced and reliable of the lot. She was mature for her age and was particularly good at keeping the peace; she showed some aptitude as a future diplomat. Tentatively, Aylee and Lola may be suitable for handling any female household duties that I would be expected to do, such as seating arrangements, with Lola handling any negotiations that would need to be accomplished. Greer and Kenna may be more useful for keeping on top of the gossip, rumors, and the goings on at Court, in the country, and internationally. Kenna would be able to focus on the Court and nobles and Greer could pay attention to the merchant and artisan class. I was distracted from my musings to Greer crying as Kenna tried to take her doll. I sighed; there was a long ways to go before they could operate like the support team that I needed. They were still children after all. 

-~-

Note: I used the real parents and relatives of Queen Mary's ladies in waiting. I matched up Greer, Kenna, Lola, and Aylee to the family names of each of Queen Mary's ladies' families the best I could. Reign changed the backgrounds and life course from what occurred in history drastically.


End file.
